We used to live in a place called FACTORYTOWN. One word. No breathing inbetween.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Eating
My friends tend to think that I'm a small eater. That I'm finnicky. Well, here's the truth of it: I'm terrible at eating. In public. With people. Nothing terrifies me more than the concept of a dinner with a boyfriends family. I can do pleasant conversation. Heck, I can even do extended outdoor activity. Movies are a breeze. But dinner? Gives me the willies. Everybody watches you eat. I'll drop my food. Make the wrong order. People raise eyebrows at my weird allergies. I'm much better with a piece of toast and a glass of water, thankyou.
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